


Special Case

by Transformersfan123



Category: 9 (2009)
Genre: Gen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transformersfan123/pseuds/Transformersfan123
Summary: "And what's so special about this case?" David asked. The answer doesn't deter him, and he gets caught up in a boy's struggle to see himself as worth it. He brings his others cases in to see if they can help. Can they? Mentions suicide and has an attempt. Don't read if you can't handle it. Humanized! AU! Stand Alone!





	1. Mute

"And what is so special about this case?" David asked, trying to shove down his nervousness.

"He has been through hell and back," Trevor replied quietly, passing over a folder. "We don't know most things about what happened to him, but the scars are vicious. The most obvious ones are on his throat. He speaks in sign language, and knows most every symbol ever thought of. I figured you would be good as you can communicate quite well with Jacob and Joseph."

"Yes, but they won't talk to me about why they are mute," David sighed as he slowly opened the file to a picture of a boy with the most intense, knowledgeable golden eyes he had ever seen.

"They still trust you very much. They are fond of you. And you have had so much success with Zebulon and Jonathan, and all of the others you're assigned to. We think you will be a good match to him."

David stared at the picture, his red eyes trying to read the gold. He got a wall, even through the photograph. "Joshua Wallace, eh? When do I meet him?"

"Now."

"Where?"

"He…is a special case."

"So?"

"He lives here. We have to monitor him 24/7. He's attempted suicide eight times before."

"Is it like what Jonathan tried?"

"He's never slit his wrist, if that's what you're asking. But he's poisoned himself three times, stepped in front of a car once, and had to be talked down from the edge of a building before. Twice."

"And the other two?"

"He threatened to shoot himself, and he was found unconscious after the rope he'd used snapped under his weight."

"Family?"

"We don't know if he's got anyone."

David pursed his lips, still staring at the picture. "Why is the organization interested in him?"

"Pardon?"

"Don't bullshit me, Trevor."

Trevor looked reluctant the blew out a breath. "Fine. He's the most powerful person I've ever seen. Ever. He's got more raw power than Zebulon and you. Combined. But he's incredibly unstable. You stabilized Zebulon, but he was steady compared to this boy. You did so well then, and, besides the sign language, that's the reason, the main reason, that you've been assigned."

"Very well. I shall go meet him."

They stood, David carrying the file, which he'd still not looked through, and headed out. David only half-heartedly listened to Trevor as he talked of his wife. He didn't feel like much of a success with Zebulon, or Jonathan, or Jacob and Joseph, or the others he was assigned to.

Zebulon still had terrible visions of the future. Jonathan buried himself in his work, excluding others to the point of absurdity. Jacob and Joseph still didn't speak out loud, and they wouldn't explain themselves. Then there was Junia and Daniel, who suffered from flashbacks of abuse. And Zacharias wouldn't even talk most of the time. He just stared at nothing while playing little songs on the piano. And now they were giving him a 'special case'. A boy who clearly needed much more help than he could offer. What was he supposed to do with such spectacular failures on his record? But they didn't see it as failure, for some reason that was beyond him.

All these thoughts passed through the man's head before they reached the door. It was a security door. _Back out now! Before you get in too deep!_

A slip of paper was handed to him.

"It changes."

"How often?"

"Often enough. We'll get you DNA clearance if this goes well."

"Thank you, Trevor."

Then he was alone. He stared at the door for five minutes before his shaking hand typed out the code. He found himself in a simple, three-room dwelling. There were no cameras, but David could feel the invisible eyes watching. They withdrew when he shooed them away with his power. As long as somebody was keeping an eye on him, whether it be via power or with actual eyes, the security requirements were met.

The sound of a shower running from the open bathroom door made David relax a little. He would have a few precious minutes to look over the file. Seating himself on the couch, he spread the file out before him, forcing himself to ignore the picture; he probably could have stared at that for hours, trying to break down the wall, trying to read those blank eyes, trying to see who the boy was. Instead, he scanned the two pages.

 _Wait… Only two?!_ David was stunned. They really didn't know anything about this boy. They had his real name, but they had no information on his life before his powers, before his suicide attempts. And even with those, there was only the bare details. How was he supposed to help with no information?

David had read through the file five times when he realized that the shower had stopped ten minutes ago. He turned to see what was going on, but screamed in terror when those same blank, golden eyes were _right there_. Not even a twitch of amusement in that young face, a face much too serious for sixteen. David forced himself to breath again.

"Hello, Joshua. I'm David. David Trent Jennings. I was wondering if we could talk."

Joshua was still for a few moments then his right hand raised up so his forefinger and his thumb could ever-so-lightly stroke his throat. His terribly, horribly, dreadfully scarred throat. David blushed hotly, trying to reorient himself.

"Yes, well, I can speak sign language. So, we can speak like that."

Joshua shrugged, tossing his towel into the hamper beside the bathroom door. He went into the little kitchen and made two cups of hot chocolate. David watched, trying to read the boy. He wasn't getting anything, which was strange. A part of his own powers was the ability to read people. He had never hit a wall as bad as this. Even Zacharias was readable, but Joshua?

"Thank you very much," David said with a smile and a nod as a mug was set in front of him.

They sipped the drinks, assessing each other. David usually let whoever was with him talk first, but it became more apparent with every passing minute that Joshua had no desire to initiate a conversation. So, it was up to him.

"What do you want to talk about?"

A steady, blank stare was all he got. The silence stretched on one minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. David broke again.

"Well, I would like to discuss why you attempted suicide so many times. I notice here that your first attempt was you drinking bleach. Why is that?"

Another blank look.

"Please, use any sign you want. If I don't know it, I'll learn it. Just have patience with me."

Nothing. And no matter what he said, no matter how many questions he asked, no matter how he worded it, he just got a blank look, a wall that was seemingly impenetrable. David had never been more relieved than when Trevor came in and got him. He plopped down in the chair across the desk from his boss.

"How did it go?" Trevor asked.

"It…didn't. He didn't sign a word. Not one."

"Sounds about right."

"What?"

"He's never talked. Not once. That's why we have no information on him."

"So, what now?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"The boy needs help. There's pain there. More than physical, more than his scars. He needs help. But I don't know if I can help."

"You have security clearance if you want to try."

"Okay. I'm going home for now. I've had a trying day."

"Very well. See you tomorrow, David."


	2. Not A Failure

Honestly, David had no idea why he kept going back. The second time was just as disappointing as the first. The third more disappointing than the first two. By the fourth, David was sure he needed a psychologist of his own. But on the fifth time, something happened.

David had just had a trying time with Zacharias, who had thrown a lamp across the room during a mental breakdown before collapsing and curling up into a ball. The man had calmed the boy down, and had helped to admit him into a room for a night before giving him a cup of coffee and telling him that he'd be back the next morning. He wanted to stop by and have a nice cup of hot chocolate with Joshua, who had the best damn hot chocolate he'd ever tasted. He reveled in the silence that came with sitting in that small, clinical living room.

Halfway through the cup, he started talking.

"I don't know what to do! I feel like such a failure with all of my patients! Nobody wants to talk to me! They gave me you to reward me, or something like that, but it only makes me feel worse! I can't do anything right."

Through his tears, he saw Joshua's hands raise and could barely make out one sentence.

_You're not a failure._

David blinked away the tears. "What?"

 _You're not a failure_ , Joshua signed. _I enjoy your company, and I know that your other patients do, too. I enjoy sitting with you. And you always compliment me on my hot chocolate. That's nice._

"I…I love your hot chocolate. Nothing like a nice, big cup to end a stressful day. It satisfies my end-of-day sweets craving, gives me a little energy boost to make it through fixing supper." David paused, swilling the remains of his marshmallows. "You've never spoken before."

_I didn't feel like talking until now. You just sat here the last two times, which surprised me. Everybody else stopped coming after two or three. It's nice to just be in the same room with somebody, to just sit and relax without cumbersome words. Now that I know you can be still, I feel like I can talk with you._

"Oh. I've never had a patient do that before." David sat there for a moment. "So…what do you want to talk about?"

_I don't know. I guess I could mention that I see the past. I have visions. That's usually why I look so tired. I have nightmares._

"I see."

_I know you do._

"I beg your pardon?"

_I know you see. The present, that is. I know you're a Presence. I know that's one of your powers, along with the fact that you're a Relational._

"Ah, right. What do you call your main power?"

_Past Reacher. I'm also an Energetic, like Zebulon._

"How did you know…?" David stopped himself. "Don't answer that. I'm not allowed to talk about my other patients without their express permissions."

_Understandable. I wouldn't mind meeting them sometime, if that's alright. I think that Daniel and Zebulon and Zacharias would understand me pretty well._

David's entire being screamed at him to ask about them, about their pasts. But he stopped himself again and changed the subject. Before the man left, Joshua tapped him.

"Yes?"

_You earned quite a bit of respect from me._

"I did? For what?"

_You didn't ask. I know you wanted to, but you didn't ask. That took a lot of willpower. I respect you more now._

Tears appeared in David's eyes again. "I…Th-thank you. I needed to hear that. I really, really did."

Joshua smiled, nodding solemnly. David got home and broke down. He'd had a terrible week, which had culminated in the lamp-throwing incident. But hearing that a single person respected him, words he'd never heard from his father, words that he never would receive from the man who was now in jail for murder…It was the greatest gift he had ever known.


	3. Attempt

"You want to do what?!" Trevor demanded, shocked beyond belief.

"I want my patients to meet. I think it would be beneficial to all of them."

"I…David, that's never been done! I don't know if this is a good idea."

"You want me to help them, right?"

"Well, yes, but…" Trevor shook his head and sat back. "If they don't object, I don't see why this would be a problem. But you must have all of them agree."

"Of course."

Two hours later, seven pairs of eyes, of all colors, stared at each other hesitantly outside of Joshua's room. David approached with a large smile.

"Hello. How are all of you today?"

"Fine. Is this everybody?" Jonathan asked, tapping on his phone.

"No. There's one more."

"He's in isolation?" Junia demanded haughtily. "Why?"

David scanned himself to unlock the door. "He just needs a little—"

Daniel's face twisted and he stepped back. Junia screamed in shock. Everybody else just stared behind him. David turned and all he saw was blood before he slammed the emergency alarm on the door. Nothing happened.

"Shit!"

Jonathan shoved by him, slinging his bag around and grabbing a rag, alcohol, which he poured on the piece of cloth, and a needle and thread. Half an hour later, Joshua woke up, eyes dim.

"What the hell?!" David shrieked as soon as his red eyes met the gold. "Why would you slit your wrists?"

 _I figured it'd work better for me than Jonathan. It didn't. I'm still here._ Joshua looked disappointed, curling his bruised hands around his knees.

"But you _knew!_ You knew I was bringing the others here! You cut the damn wires in the door alarm! You _planned_ this!"

_Of course I did! Why would I want to meet other people? So they can see how unstable I am? So they can make fun of me? Shit, David! I'm not good around other people! You can ask Daniel! Michael cut out his eye because he wasn't social! He carved my vocal chords for the same reason! I don't want anymore pain! No more! No more pain! No more humiliation! No more punishment! I can't take it anymore! Please, just make it stop!_

"How did you know Michael cut out my eye?" Daniel asked quietly while David sputtered in shock.

Joshua shrugged. Zebulon looked up from a drawing. "He's a Past Reacher. He probably knows more about all of us than we've ever told anybody."

_Another damn reason for people to hate me._

"I don't hate you!" David exclaimed. "I love you! You're so kind and funny! Dark, yes, but still! I can't think of a single reason to try to kill yourself!"

"David, in the moment, you don't just think of reasons why you want to die. You also fail to see a reason to live," Jonathan said, looking up from his phone.

Silence. Zacharias finally nodded. "Yeah. Sounds about right. My brain hurts so bad sometimes. I can understand."

David pursed his lips and sat down gingerly beside Joshua. "How about all of us meet again once you heal up? Say, three days? We'll meet here with cups of hot chocolate. How does that sound?"

Joshua nodded tiredly. _I'll have it ready._

The medics burst in with security, and everything blurred for a while before David found himself in Trevor's office.

"I'm taking you off the case."

"No, you're not," David said quietly. "He needs me. He needs them, too. We're all meeting in three days."

"He tried to kill himself again!"

"I know. I'm not going to downplay that. But give us a chance. Please, they all need more stability. What could give them that more than talking to other people who could understand?"

Trevor sat down, frowning. "Oh…fine. But this better work. No more suicide attempts."

"I can't promise that. But we'll try to make it better."

Trevor nodded and shooed him out. David nearly ran into Jonathan on the way out the door.

"So, we're still meeting, right?"

"I didn't know you cared."

Jonathan blushed and shifted. "It's nice to see I'm not the only one who's tried it."

"Yes, I can understand that. And yes, we're still meeting. Three days at two in the afternoon in Joshua's rooms. Yes?"

"Sounds good. I'll let Daniel know."

"Daniel?"

"We're meeting for coffee down the road. I've got to go now. See you in a few days!"

David watched in bemusement as Jonathan hurried away. Well, that was an interesting development. But it was good for them to have friends.


	4. Hot Chocolate

Joshua looked tired, but he set the last cup of hot chocolate in front of Jacob then retrieved his own. He seated himself beside David, who patted his shoulder before taking a large mouthful.

"Mm, perfect, as usual."

The boy smiled, taking the praise with a nod. Everybody else sipped their drinks for a minute, gauging each other.

"So, Jonathan, Daniel, how was your coffee date?"

"Hm?" Jonathan turned off his phone and took a drink. "It went well. Daniel's fascinated with medicine, and everything else I do, so we're going over textbooks together."

Daniel blushed as David looked at him. "I'm proud of you. I know talking to people isn't easy for you. Good job."

"Thanks. I like Jonathan. He's interesting."

"I think all of you are interesting," Zebulon replied, smiling.

David nodded. "I agree. Now, what are we going to talk about?"

"Depends on how personal it has to get," Junia said softly.

"It doesn't have to get personal at all. We could talk about sports statistics if you want. But I think spending time together is good for all of us."

Silence for a few minutes. Joseph finally raised his hands.

_You feeling okay, Josh?_

A tired smile. _Yeah. My wrists are sore. Very sore. It hurts to move my hands around. But I'm managing._

"Yes, I remember that," Jonathan said darkly. "And stopping my bleeding was hard for my right wrist. I'd never stitched with my left hand before."

"Huh?" Zacharias asked, crossing his arms. "That makes no sense."

"Well, I tried to kill myself by slitting my wrists. I decided that I wanted to live and stitched my wrists up to stop the bleeding. And now I'm here," Jonathan said matter-of-factly, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

"Oh. I've never tried, but I've thought about it," Daniel said, looking down at the floor with a sad expression. "I'm so tired of people staring at my face like I'm a monster that deserves to only have one eye and a face full of scars."

"So, what exactly happened to your eye?" Junia asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"It's like what Joshua said a few days ago. Michael Skitcher took out my eye because I wasn't social enough for his tastes. I didn't entertain him like the others did. I got away a couple years ago. It looks like Josh has the same story, just a different body part. Vocal chords, you said?"

Joshua nodded. _Yeah. Vocal chords. It hurt._

"I feel you there. I still have phantom pains. You?"

Another nod, and Jonathan sat up straight. "May we see underneath your eyepatch? I've never seen somebody with a missing eye."

Excitement permeated the room as Daniel blushed, but the boy reached up and slowly removed the piece of leather. They stared, but it wasn't hostile or repulsed, so Daniel allowed it. Jacob and Joseph stood and reached out to touch, but paused an inch above his face.

_May we?_

"If you're careful."

They explored the scars, taking in texture, color, length, width, and when they sat back down, Daniel smiled and slipped his eyepatch back on.

"It's nice that you don't look…disgusted. I get that a lot."

 _It is fascinating,_ Jacob argued. _We are not used to such things, and we needed to catalogue. It is not disgusting. It is a part of you!_

"Catalogue?" Zacharias asked, brow wrinkling. "What's that mean?"

 _We take in information and store it for later. It is just something we do. We know that it is odd,_ Joseph said.

"It's pretty cool," Junia said then stood and took off her shirt, turning around. David pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Junia, I have requested that you not do that. You are female, as tomboyish as you are."

"Oh, get over it! I'm wearing a bra," Junia replied, looking over her shoulder. "Check out my scar!"

"Cool," Zacharias said, dark eyes taking in the long, pale marking on her back. "I got a few small ones, but nothing like that."

"Josh's throat looks pretty brutal," Junia said, slipping her shirt back on and taking her seat again.

_You haven't even seen my worst._

"You mean your throat scars aren't your worst?" Daniel asked in surprise.

Joshua shook his head then slipped his own shirt off and turned around. Nobody moved, nobody breathed. All they did was stare at the giant nine on the boy's back.

"Why a nine?" David asked hoarsely.

_Because I was going to be number nine. All the other numbers are dead at this point. He hunted them down and killed them._

"Hey! We could be the other numbers!" Zebulon said excitedly. "I mean there are eight of us, besides you!"

"How would we determine who's who?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, David's One, obviously," Junia said.

"Jonathan should be Two! He's second oldest!" Daniel blurted out. "And I'll be Five! It's my favorite number!"

 _We shall be Three and Four!_ Jacob signed rapidly.

 _Yes! I am Four and my brother is Three!_ Joseph added.

"I guess I'll be Seven," Junia said thoughtfully. "It's my lucky number."

"So, Zach, want to be Six or Eight?" Daniel asked.

"Eight," the large boy said quietly. "It's a bigger number."

"Then I'll be Six!" Zebulon proclaimed. "And Josh is Nine!"

Joshua got a funny look on his face. _Thank you. Most people pretend it's not there._

"Hey, Nine, got anymore hot chocolate?" Seven asked, staring with a pout into her mug.

 _I can make some. Give me a few minutes,_ Nine replied with a warm smile. He stood at the stove and paused. _One? Can you get me out of here? I'm tired of having my life watched every second of every day._

"I'll see what I can do," One said gently. "I've been meaning to move in here to be closer to work. I'll see if we can all live together in a group home. Sound good?"

"To get me out of an apartment with ridiculous rent?" Two said, making a face. "Sounds good to me. I'll be closer to work, too. And it'll be nice to live with friends."

"Friends?" Five asked, brightening. "We're friends? I have friends?"

"Sure sounds like it," Six said.

"Hot chocolate?" Seven asked, glancing at Nine, who was still staring at them.

He nodded and turned to put milk on. One stared at his new friends, his new family. The organization would be happy to have a new team, especially as powerful as they all were. But getting them to relax security around Nine? That would be difficult, considering his recent suicide attempt. But he'd talk to Trevor, have Nine be with one of their companions all day. At least he'd still be watched, but by somebody who cared for more than his powers.


	5. Finding My Place

"You sure this is the team you want, David?" Trevor asked as they looked around the large, furnished living room.

"Call me One," was the reply. "And yes. We are good for each other.

"One? Very original."

"Shut up. It means something to us to be called by numbers. Did you talk to your boss about Nine?"

"Joshua? Yeah. He said he has to be watched still, but the boss said he'd let you and your team watch him instead."

"Excellent."

"David…"

"Call me One."

"One then. Are you sure about this? You told me a couple times that you didn't want a team. And now you've got the largest one in the entire organization! You're getting in pretty deep. You can still back out. You're not bound to them yet, are you?"

"No. Not yet. And I know what I said," One said tiredly. "This is exhausting. It truly is. And I definitely feel overwhelmed. But Two is helping to share the load, and it is easy to talk to all of them about what bothers me. I'm not sure, honestly. But I'm going to do this. We are going to do this."

"Okay. Well, everything is here. I'll leave you all to get settled."

Trevor walked out, glancing at Nine as he carried in his one little suitcase of clothes. Nine ignored him.

_What room is mine?_

"Whichever you want. Nobody else has picked yet. You have to share a room with somebody, though."

_Yeah. I figured._

"I'll share with you," Five said as he came in with a large suitcase. "Come on. Let's get a good room!"

They were settled in one of the larger bedrooms by the time the others got in and selected their rooms. They ended up in the living room as Five hooked up the television. Nine laid on the couch and rested; he was still tired from his attempt at his own life. One hesitated then sat down beside him, putting his head his lap to stroke the hair from his forehead.

"You need a haircut," One murmured.

 _If you want to give me one, I won't complain,_ Nine signed lazily.

"Mm, I'll do it after you wash your hair tonight. I think you need a nice, hot shower to relax. Then I'll give you a trim, we can order pizza, and then sleep late tomorrow. Sound good?"

Nine nodded. _Yeah. Sounds really good._

"Good. You go take a shower. I'll order the pizza. What kind do we want?"

 _Cheese for me,_ Nine replied then stood and walked into the bathroom. One made a negative noise as he went to shut the door. _Really? I can't have privacy?_

"Trevor said you have to have constant supervision. I'm sorry, Nine."

"I'll sit in there with him, Boss," Eight said. "I'll take all the meat they can put on it. Come on, Nine."

Eight leaned against the sink as he watched Nine disrobe, his eyes trained on the terrible scars on his back. He couldn't help but stare, and when Nine's blushing face looked up, he tore his eyes away.

"I'm sorry. It's so awful, you know, what you went through."

Nine shrugged, his face still red as he stepped into the hot water. The younger boy let out a deep sigh and just stood there, letting the water relax him for a few minutes. Eight stayed quiet for a minute or two then began to hum. Nine peeked his head out and Eight went silent again.

"Sorry."

_I don't mind. Can you do Lord of the Rings?_

Eight grinned and began to hum again. Nine looked pleased then pulled back and scrubbed himself clean. The larger boy handed him a big, fluffy towel when he turned the water off, and he quickly dried himself off before slipping on a clean pair of boxers and pants. He paused.

_Would you mind if I don't wear a shirt?_

"Fine with me. I can't promise I won't stare…but we'll get used to it."

 _Thanks_.

They walked out to see five boxes of pizza set on the table as One shut the door.

"Perfect timing! Now, let's eat!"

Nine hungrily wolfed down four slices then washed it down with Dr. Pepper before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. There was no itchy sensation of invisible eyes, which was nice. One lightly tapped him, and he cracked an eye open to see scissors. He sat in a chair as his leader trimmed his hair then watched as everybody else got one, except for Seven, who threatened One's physical health if he touched her with the scissors. He conceded.

"You're a girl, so I don't mind you having long hair," he said. "But I was raised to think of men as having short hair."

"I like short hair," Six said. "It's easier to take care of."

Three and Four nodded, rubbing each other's heads to take in the new feel of their shorter hair.

"Well, I think we should relax for the rest of the night. We get briefed tomorrow," Two said, reclining back into the couch.

"Briefed?" Five asked, making a face.

"We're a team now," One replied. "We're going to be briefed on each other's powers then we're going to start training with them. When we get good enough together, we'll be sent on missions."

"Ugh," Seven groused. "I have no powers."

 _Yes, you do,_ Nine sighed lazily. _You're a Mimic._

"What the hell's a Mimic?" Eight asked.

_She can copycat. Her Specific is fighting styles. She knows over thirty, and is pretty much a master of over half._

"What's mine then?"

"You're a Physical," Six said, sketching on an art pad. "Your strong and tough. You don't take much damage. You could probably get shot at close range and be fine."

"Oh. Yeah, that sounds about right. What about those two?" Eight pointed at Three and Four.

"They're Intels," Six replied. "They store knowledge for later reference. They're like living encyclopedias."

"Cool," Five said, looking over the two blushing boys. "I'm a Random. I'm pretty much a jack-of-all-trades. It changes every once in a while."

"What about you, Six?" Two asked, tapping on his phone.

"Me? I'm a Futuristic and an Energetic. I see the future, and I've got a lot of raw energy that I can use for whatever I want…if I'm skilled enough for it."

"I'm a Presence," One said quietly. "I see the present, about twenty-four hours either way. And I'm a Relational as well. Which is why I was assigned to be a counselor. I'm good at reading people, emotions, motives. I'm rather useful, according to Trevor."

"What about you, Nine?" Five asked.

_Past Reacher and Energetic._

Jonathan sat up in surprise. "Two Energetics on one team?"

"It could be dangerous, but I'm here, so Trevor thinks it's safe…ish."

"It's quite safe. Nine's much stronger than I am, and he's got more control." Six sounded ashamed and his eyes filled with tears. "I'm not the best with my powers."

 _It takes practice,_ Nine said kindly, sitting up and petting Six's hand. _My sister helped me with mine._

"Ah! You have family!" One exclaimed.

_No. Not anymore._

Silence stretched on for a minute before Eight touched him. "What happened?"

_Michael Skitcher. When he captured me…Well, my sister was already dead from ovarian cancer, and without her protection, she was a Shield, Michael captured me and killed my parents. I fought so much. He didn't like that. So, he carved me up like a Thanksgiving turkey._

"Oh, Nine," Five said compassionately.

Nine shrugged, tears threatening to escape his eyes. His bottom lip trembled. _I just don't think about it. It's been almost four years._

"That's not healthy," One growled. "Have you ever cried for any of them?"

_No._

One pursed his lips then drew Nine close, stroking his hair gently. "Then I'd say it's time to."

He shook his head, but when One didn't let him go, he sobbed, a broken, grating noise, and his tears wouldn't be stopped. He cried for half an hour as his friends sat around him, offering the comfort of their presence. When he calmed, he just sat there, breathing in his leader's scent, that wonderful thing that told him life was going to be alright. He shivered when One drew back to look at him.

"Better?"

Nine nodded, then spoke in their heads for the first time. _~Yeah. I feel a lot better. Thank you.~_

"That's what I'm here for. Now, time for bed."

One tucked Nine in, petting him and kissing his forehead before doing the same for Five. "Goodnight you two. Try to get some sleep. We're going to have a busy few days."

The man watched the two troubled souls drift to sleep. He smiled. He would have to thank Trevor for giving him that special case. Without it, he wouldn't have found his place.


End file.
